


Arrivederci, Rosabella

by Madame Baroquedile (WhimsicalRealist)



Series: Strings Of Fate Set In Sandstone [10]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-02-16 04:08:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2255352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhimsicalRealist/pseuds/Madame%20Baroquedile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A somewhat-sequel to "Special Delivery", Doflamingo slips out into the gardens surrounding the palace after his defeat at the hands of Mugiwara and Law, seeking to take on piece of his former life with him in his escape from Dressrosa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wilted Rose

The gardens surrounding the palace were largely untouched by the chaos that had leveled much of Dressrosa, the hedges and vibrant flowers a striking foil against the backdrop of smoke rising from the city. It was here that Doflamingo dragged himself on unsteady legs, right arm hanging uselessly at his side as his left hand clutched a particularly nasty gouge just above the hip. Squinting against the bright rays of light filtering down through the trees--devoid of his sunglasses after his battle with Mugiwara and Law--he limped along toward a sizable pond tucked away in one corner of the lawn. But as he found a well-tread path, he paused with widening eyes, feeling a gripping coldness clutching at his chest.

Blood.

The path was smeared with blood, still shining in the afternoon sun. Fighting against the vast ache that was his entire body, the man half sprinted along the path toward the lake.

 

"Rosabella?" he called ahead of himself, heart racing in his chest. "Are you there, Bella-babe?"

A soft, pain-filled growl reached him and it cut like a knife.

With what little energy he could muster, he rushed around the corner and skidded to a halt at the end of the path. There, laying listlessly in the shallows with dimming pink eyes was his white-scaled bananawani, Rosabella. Fury boiled just beneath a suffocating feeling of guilt as he looked at her, approaching the injured predator slowly.

"Hey there, my Rosabella baby, shh," he said softly, holding his left hand out toward her so she could catch his scent. "It's me. It's okay now, it's just me."

 

The wani roused herself slightly, if just to lift her head and sniff the bloody hand offered toward her. Some light returned to her gaze and she made a noise of recognition before her jaw flopped back down into the muddy bank. Breathing in weezily, the rise and fall of her side jarred several spears that had been cruely stabbed into her by the residents of the kingdom. Mingo was vaguely impressed that she had managed to return to her lake from the battlefield in her condition, but it was a passing thought as he knelt before his precious pet.

Only a few years old and she had grown to the size of a horse under his care ever since she had been delivered to him from Alabasta. The timing had been almost perfect, having something to keep him focused after the week of heavy drinking and restlessness that had followed the news of Crocodile's fall from grace and subsequent incarceration. She was albino, and surely would have not survived in the wild, but never once had she been anything but a fearsome, tooth-filled little devil that had won the man's affection the second he laid eyes on her. She wasn't even an adult yet and already had proven herself a fierce warrior in battle if her injuries were any indication.

 

It broke his heart to see her in such a state, a mere child more or less struck down and left to bleed to death alone. His hand gently slipped under her chin and lifted it to rest in his lap, soothing his fingers over her snout.

"Oh, Bella, no...not you, too," he muttered to himself before forcing a comforting grin. "Hey, girl, you look lovely today. I'm sorry I didn't stop by to say hello this morning like I usually do. There were some people making a mess of things, but they're all gone...they're all gone now..."

Not just the people. Not just the Marines. No, his family was gone now, too. Everything was gone. And in his hopes of escaping with just this _one_ thing, just this _one_ piece of his life intact...she was dying in his lap and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

Except make the passing as easy for her as possible. He owed her that much for bravely joining the others in defending her master. Her father.

 

Cooing softly, he stroked her snout until she closed her eyes with a happy growl, nuzzling into his touch weakly. The scent of blood was thick in the air, joining the suddenly overwhelming, cloying perfume of the exotic flowers the garden practically overflowed with. Cringing, he delicately summoned up a connection to her, gently taking control of her body as to not startle the resting reptile. Leaning down, he kissed her between the eyes and muttered quietly.

"Sleep well, my sweet wani-girl. You've earned a nice, long rest."

Fingers crooking, he commanded her heart to stop and then the brain. Rosabella heaved one last breath and then fell still, passing peacefully in the man's lap.

 

Silence lay over him as he sat there for a long time, still humming faintly and running his fingers over slowly cooling scales. Blinking with a perplexed expression, he wondered why his vision was so damn blurry when he felt something wet roll down his cheek.

The sensation continued, grew, and he swore to himself as he realized he was crying. Tight-lipped and teeth clenched, he could not stop the tears spilling from blank eyes, leaving hot tracks on their way to drip from his chin.

 

Well fuck.

He had lost everything now, hadn't he?


	2. Finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long-awaited (???) conclusion! Sorry it took so long, was in a slump of sorts, hehe.

Doflamingo was dreaming. Or dead. That's what he decided when his feverish mind registered a dryness to the air that had not been there before and a howling of wind that was alien in Dressrosa. Refusing to open his eyes, the defeated man curled himself into a tighter ball beneath his ragged coat, tucked firmly against his poor Rosabella's side. She had gone so cold and stiff, but he could not bring himself to leave her like that. He had managed to pull free the various spears and pitchforks that had remained embedded in her thick hide, tossing the weapons into a heap with a disgusted snarl. His precious bananawani...she hadn't deserved such a untimely end, the last daughter of a fearsome family bred in Alabasta by a man who he had not seen in two years.

A bitter chuckle rose from dry, split lips. He probably would get a good fuckin' laugh about his fall from grace considering how things had been left between them after Marineford. No, he certainly wouldn't expect any sympathy from the man even on a good day, but now? Well, he was sure the guy hated him if he bothered to spare even _that_ much emotion toward the younger man.

  
Hell, he would probably finish him off because Mingo let this happen to the dear reptile he had been entrusted with specifically. She had been hand-picked for him and just barely escaped culling by the Marines who took control of Crocodile's casino following his arrest...only to die today defending him. A hand idly ran over the cold scales of her belly, heart aching not only for the loss of the wani but his entire family. He didn't know if they were even okay: had they been captured? Did any of them escape? Had any of them... _died_?

It made him sick, the uncertainty, but the worst part was lying in the pond's muddy bank with his perished pet, unable to move or do anything at all. He couldn't help them. He couldn't even look for them in his state. Not that he'd make it far if he tried, he would be grabbed by either the citizens and strung up--- _just like in his youth_ \---or shackled by Marines and hauled off to face 'Justice'.

Of course, it was really just a matter of time before one or the other fate befell him. The wronged citizens were out for his blood and surely the Marines would not depart until they had him in their possession: alive _or_ dead. The funny thing was...he didn't know which he would prefer, given a choice. So there he lay in the shallows, uncaring about the cold water soaking his pants or the mud soiling his shirt and coat. Let them come, he thought bitterly, fingers twitching and gripping tight to the reptile's side. At least he could have something else to focus on...

 

Footsteps. Doflamingo stirred some time later--- _how long had it been? It felt like hours_ \---at the sound of slow, approaching footsteps on the dirt path. It was quiet around   
him and cold, the sun had set surely, but he could still hear strange wind in the distance. Where _had_ he heard that noise before? It was a very distinct howl, dry and angry...

"Doflamingo?"

The blond froze, heart skipping a beat and he forgot to breathe for a long moment. Now he knew he was dreaming. He had to be. There was no way. There was absolutely no way. It was the only plausible explanation.

Whoever it was, they had stopped nearby and Mingo could feel eyes upon him. Sucking in a ragged breath, curiosity got the better of him and he very slowly shifted so he could get a look at his visitor. Tired, bloodshot blue eyes widened as he saw Crocodile looming over him, his black hair disheveled and tossed about by the winds he could now identify as the older man's sand cyclones.

Golden eyes flicked from his face to the reptile behind him and Mingo wished for death when he saw the usually stoic face contort with a deep sorrow filling his gaze. Words failed him, and really, what _could_ he say? A shaking hand reached out and clutched desperately at one of the other man's ankles, pressing his forehead into the mud with a broken whine. He hadn't done it himself, but he felt responsible all the same; guilt was not something he was used to, but laying there   
before the older man beside the dead wani, it practically strangled him.

  
"Rosabella," Crocodile murmured, stepping out of the blond's grasp entirely to crouch beside her head, his hand tenderly running over her snout.

Doflamingo tried to pick himself up, tried to speak, to offer the other man some sort of comfort, some form of apology, but could scarcely get himself beyond resting up on his elbows.

"Crocodile, I--" he finally managed to croak, but he was cut off by the raven-haired man's hand raising to silence him.

"She died a warrior," he murmured, hand returning to her head. "Her mother would have been proud, she was one of my most   
fearsome. Rosie...she was from the last nest. Her brothers would have been this big at her age, maybe a bit bigger. But for a female to grow this well, especially given her mutation..."

Crocodile turned to address the younger man then, mouth set firmly in a line as he seemed to be reigning in his emotions, that fact alone almost more painful to witness than had he let them show.

"She was well-loved," he concluded at last, a small, sad smile quirking the corners of his lips. The expression broke Mingo's heart anew. "Wasn't she?"

"Y-yeah...yeah, she was," Mingo replied weakly.

 

Hand roaming from head to neck, Crocodile gently undid the tattered pink ribbon tied there and pressed the strip of silk into the blond's hand to keep. He moved his fingers to her mouth and grasped at one of her teeth, yanking it free to slip into his own pocket; had it been anyone else, Mingo might have objected to such a crude action, but this was the man who had stood watch over her as she hatched, who had so carefully tucked her into a crate bound for Dressrosa with the hopes of her finding a good home there: it was only fair for him to have something to remember her by, too.

"She can't come with us," he concluded, voice heavy with badly hidden sorrow as he rose to his feet. "But I can at least give her a memorial."

Sand that had seemed to follow the man up from the beach in one of the cyclones came to him when he beckoned, curling and wisping around his body before following the direction of his pointing finger toward the reptile. Doflamingo managed to crawl away a bit, pushing himself up into a seated position to watch the white Dressrosa sand wrap around the wani's body. He realized after a moment that Crocodile was entombing her with it.

"Until we meet again," the older man sighed, clenching his fingers into a fist. "Desert Sabbia Bara."

The flowing sand suddenly froze and hardened into stone that gleamed like snow in the moonlight and Mingo marveled at the sight of his precious reptile daughter turned into a tranquil and beautiful statue. She looked truly at peace now, curled around the curve of her pond and appeared for all the world like a finely carved piece of art: no one would bother her there.

Clutching her ribbon against his chest, the blond blinked wet eyes up at the stoic man beside him, a shiver running up his spine. A brief, half-hearted chuckle left him.

 

"Hey, could you do that to me, too, Croco-man?" he murmured, lips pulled into an empty grin. "Would be a kinder fate than what the citizens or the Marines have planned."

"Maybe when you're dead," Crocodile grumbled, gold eyes flicking down to survey the younger man. "But you're not. Not yet. Rosie gave her life to protect yours, so you don't get to give up so easily."

Shame kindled a red flush in Mingo's cheeks, grin falling instantly into a frown, glancing down at the ribbon he clung to. Sighing, the older man reached down and grabbed hold of the back of the pink coat and pulled the blond to his feet.

"Can you run?" he asked, looking off toward the ocean. "We're going."

"Going?" Mingo blinked, brows knitting together as he tried to steady himself now that he was back on his feet. "Going _where_? And why are you even here in the first place, now that I'm thinking about it..."

"I heard about your stunt," Crocodile replied with a shrug. "Leaving the Warlords. I knew something was going on, so I came to see for myself. Unfortunately, I got here just as you put up that cage."

"Oh," Mingo muttered simply.

"Come on, there's time for questions later," the older man urged, striding back down the blood-stained dirt path. "They'll find us here eventually."

"Okay," the younger man weakly agreed, shambling after his rescuer.

 

But he paused just before reaching the bend, casting one last glance over his shoulder to the pond and the eternally sleeping wani while it was still in view.

"Bye, Bella-baby..." Mingo whispered, fingers clenching around her ribbon before turning away to sprint clumsily after Crocodile.


End file.
